


Take Me, Do As You Will

by Cybertronic Purgatory (orphan_account)



Category: Guild Wars
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Multi, OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 18:58:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Cybertronic%20Purgatory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following a slight misstep, Logan finds himself tied to a chair at Anise's mercy. He... does not mind as much as he probably should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me, Do As You Will

**Author's Note:**

> Totally indulgent OT3 smut exploring their power dynamics (Logan as the obediently faithful puppy knight, Anise as the calculating shrewd mastermind, both orbiting the resplendent Queen Jennah whom they will do anything for).

Anise wakes Logan up with a soft whisper, the tip of her tongue grazing his earlobe. ”Rise and shine, sleepyhead.” 

 

Logan sleepily reaches for her, thinking she’s in a gentle mood. When he clutches at air, he realizes she’s not. She tells him to get up and hurry along, they’ve got places to be. He tries to protest – there’s duties, there’s things to do, there’s a stack of reports for him to wade through – but she waves a hand, saying it's all been taken care of.

 

”Anise,” he says, trying to act stern, but she pulls open his wardrobe and throws an outfit at him. All the clothes in it are ones she picked out: fine fabrics, exquisite details – and all unworn. It’s not that he dislikes them, it’s just that he prefers wearing armor.

 

” _Logan_ ,” she replies, holding up a shirt against his naked chest, wrinkling her brow before picking another. ”There. You’ll look inconspicuous enough.”

 

”Where are we going?”

 

”Somewhere nice, and quiet. We have some things to…” She hesitates, lips twitching into a cruel smile. ”Discuss.”

 

”Discuss _what_?”

 

Growing tired of his constant questioning, she hooks a finger under the chain around his neck and tugs at it. ”You’ve been so hot-headed lately.” Her lips ghost close to his, eyes almost closed, and her breath flutters against his. It’s barely a second, but she doesn’t need more to keep him wrapped and obedient. A trick she knows all too well.

 

He begrudgingly does as told, putting on what she presents. If he takes too long, her gloved fingers are there again, yanking at the chain. ”Why don’t you just get a leash?” he says, annoyed as he puts on the coat and pulls up the hood.

 

”Now there’s a thought.” She sounds all too serious.

 

”Forget I said anything.”

 

”Oh, but it’s such a good thought, my dear.”

 

He sighs, following her as they weave through the back alleys and empty streets of Divinity’s Reach. A fine dewy mist hangs in the cool air, Anise’s heels echoing against the cobblestones. When they enter into Rurikton, he pauses. ”We’re not going where I think, are we?”

 

Anise puts a finger over his mouth. ”You don’t get a say in this, not today. Now come along.”

 

Passing through the asura gate, they arrive in a rainy Ebonhawke, the morning drizzle keeping people inside. A few crowds hang around street corners and Anise smoothly takes each turn to avoid them, pulling her hood down further. He follows her example – being there brings him no particular joy, and he’s not keen on being recognized. There are places in Tyria where his face, even his name, makes people reach for something sharp… And here, he’s not quite sure how people feel about him, but he wagers it’s not good.

 

Anise leads him up a set of stairs and into a building, where she bolts the door and listens for a while before nodding. ”Good. We’re alone.”

 

”And now what?”

 

”Undress.” 

 

”Excuse me?”

 

She crosses the distance between them in a single smooth stride. ”Logan, I gave you an order. Undress.” She’s close enough to touch him and she doesn’t – he feels the heat, smells her sweet perfumes, and when he moves closer she leans back. ”Ah ah. Do as I say.”

 

”You’re a cruel one.”

 

”I try.”

 

He removes one piece after another, taking his time, but she betrays no emotion, just that amused little half-smile constantly playing on her lips. Buying himself time, he folds the clothes and puts them on a table, something he rarely does – usually he just throws them on the floor, but if she’s going to play her games, he’s going to make her wait for it. Except his attempt barely registers. She has a seemingly infinite storage of patience, and eventually he’s standing there, naked and bare, one hand awkwardly trying to cover his privates.

 

She nods at a chair in the middle of the room. ”Sit.” 

 

He eyes the piece of furniture. Simple, wooden, unremarkable, but he can tell it’s going to ache to sit there for any longer amount of time. Anise taps her fingers against her arms, eyebrow arched, and he does as told. He keeps his legs together, arms crossed over his chest, goosebumps on his skin. The room is chilly, gone unheated for too long. Though he wants to ask her what in the name of the six gods she’s up to, he doesn’t quite know how to word it. 

 

”So… This is an…”

 

”Quiet, Logan.” Shrugging out of her cloak she immediately fractures into several illusions that approach him, their hands all over his naked body, fluttering and vague, pulling and tugging at his limbs, their touch like silk. He can’t make out which hands are real and which are fake, the fingertips drawing light circles over his wrists and ankles, spreading his knees apart, tilting his head back. He gasps when the fingertips brush over his nipples and further up his thighs, and she clasps a hand over his mouth, four wicked smiles above him. Then a burst of light and there’s just one Anise, but… He can’t move.

 

He yanks at the bonds, but she has secured wrists and ankles to the chair, and put a gag over his mouth. The knots are tighter than he’d expect, and the more he struggles the firmer they are. He looks to her, trying to muster up his best puppy dog gaze, but she shakes her head. ”Did you think I’d let the week’s events pass by unnoticed? Getting in fist-fights with citizens who insult you and the Queen? That’s poor form, Logan, and something we cannot tolerate. You need a lesson, sweet thing. A lesson in patience. In pain.”

 

She stands by the window, one hand on the latch of the heavy shutters. There’s a faint murmur outside, indistinguishable but building up. ”Now, listen.” Throwing the window wide open, the full force of the chanting on the street below becomes audible. Separatists. _Shouting about the flaws of the peace treaty. Calling Queen Jennah an incapable ruler. Calling for her removal from power – and worse…_

 

He strains against the bonds, growing increasingly frustrated, glaring at Anise. All she does is wag a finger at him. ”Don’t wear yourself out so quickly. We still got a long time to go.”

 

Slumping back in the seat, he feels the blood rising, the anger growing. He hates hearing it and can’t stand it, but no matter how he tries, he can’t block it out. It’s _there_ , unforgiving, unyielding, the brutality of their hatred and dislike of Jennah making his breath quicken. 

 

Anise circles around him, hands placed lightly on his shoulders. ”Do you think they chant because they believe it? Or because a minister twists the truth around?” She gazes out the window, head tilted to one side. ”You can’t root out every single one of them and threaten to throw them into prison. It’s ridiculous. Most of them are just misguided, blinded by sweet promises that can never come true.”

 

He’s had enough. Scooting the chair away from the window, he doesn’t want to hear it anymore. Anise, however, won’t let him go so easily. She stops him by planting her booted foot firmly on the seat, the sharp toe scratching at the inside of his thigh. ”Ah ah ah. Behave.”

 

Giving her the angriest glare he can muster up, she merely laughs and pushes the chair back into position. ”The Queen knows very well. She hears it too. She’s _aware_ , Logan, and she’s trained herself to not let it affect her. Same with me. You, however, you let your rage get the better of you. She doesn’t need your bloodied fists. She needs your shield. Your loyalty. She needs you to stand by her side with ice in your veins.”

 

_She needs my sword_ , he wants to snarl at Anise, who dusts off the table and sits down, back straight and legs crossed. ”Settle down. It’s only just beginning.”

 

He continues to fight, tiring himself against the ropes that will not yield, smooth like silk against his skin yet strong like iron. Sweat beads on his naked skin, the rage still boiling in him, each insult hurled at the Queen increasing his desire to break free and break some jaws. She’s got him pinned, and he groans, hair spilling into his face as his head slumps forward in defeat.

 

”Don’t look so glum, dear. The fun is only just beginning.”

 

A ripple passes through the crowd, a grudging silence falling over Ebonhawke’s streets. Contrary to what he’d expect, his stomach clenches in dreadful anticipation. Then a murmur, and the crowds roar up again. He looks to Anise, eyes wide in fear, and all she does is lean closer to the window.

 

”They rally around their hatred, and we? We rally around our common love. Around her.”

 

From the plaza, he hears the rustle of heavy armor, of shields and swords, and…

 

He tries to bite through the gag, summoning up the last of his energy reserves, but nothing gives. He tears and roars against the fabric, his grunts muffled.

 

”You have a good ear,” Anise notes, circling back around, tipping his chin up. ”You’re such a beautiful sight right now,” she whispers, gloved thumb stroking the swell of his lower lip.

 

”Citizens–” Jennah begins outside, murmurs passing through the crowd.

 

”She’s nervous, isn’t she?”

 

Logan snaps his head away from her fingertips, but she grips his chin tight, digging her fingers in.

 

”You’re not the only one she can call upon in times in trouble. You’re not the only one who’s sworn to give their very life for her protection. Have some faith that she’ll be fine, and that I have ensured her protection.”

 

Outside, the rowdy crowds almost drown out Jennah’s speech, but her words still manage to float back to them. He doesn’t care about whatever point Anise is making, and her amusement with him runs thin. Tipping the chair back she manages the balance of twisting it around so he’s facing out the window, and she quickly clasps her hand over his mouth as a loud, strangled noise escapes his throat.

 

She’s so divine. There’s no other word for it – though she loathes it, demands he won’t use it – but it’s the only one he can call up to give name to her beauty. She’s radiant, sheltered from the light rain and voice amplified by magic as she speaks with certainty. Though the crowd shifts and he can see the tell-tale signs of Exemplars and Seraphs moving among those gathered, it doesn’t ease the gnawing in his stomach.

 

”You’re so… Tense.” She slides a hand down the front of his chest, fingers skimming across the muscles, touching the top of his thighs as she leans over his shoulder. With a firm hand, she grasps his cock – not soft, not hard – and squeezes with surprising gentleness. ”Focus. Focus on the good. Focus on what you can do, on the heart of the matter, rather than the poison looking to find a way in. Don’t throw your strength away on anything else but her.”

 

She takes her time, moving her hand slow, but the sensation of the glove’s fabric has been imprinted on him from all the other times they’ve done this (always with her pushing him down and having her way, deciding and ruling his will at whim, and him following and obeying) and he stiffens slowly. His head slumps forward but she pulls him back again, harsh and hard, fingers digging into his scalp.

 

Having worked him rigid, she lets go and he can’t stop the whine in his throat. She smiles down at him in passing as she moves past to lean out the window, looking intently at Jennah. ”She’s glorious, isn’t she?”

 

He hums against his gag, eyes moving between the curve of Anise’s hips and Jennah’s distant face. Her hair flutters in the wind and she smoothes a loose strand behind her ear, pausing in her speech before launching into the next sentence. The words are still obscured by the crowd’s murmurs and the blood pounding in his head, but the rhythm is there, the one he knows.

 

”Our queen. Our reason above all. You swore an oath to her, one she never asked of you, and so have I. I understand the yearning in you better than anyone.”

 

Logan groans, pained and terrified. There’s a subtle shift in the air as she turns around, her face somber. She pushes his head back, thumb pressing down on the column of his throat. He swallows and her fingers tighten their hold around his neck. ”You’ve suffered a lot today, haven’t you? Maybe I can take the worst edge off.”

 

Removing her pants in a quick succession of moves, Anise straddles his lap, one hand between them, the gloved palm stroking against his rigid cock. A brush of curls graze the underside of his cock, and then he moans into his gag as the labia part and the warm, wet heat moves against him. She laughs, smiling like she’s won, and she has – there’s no game they play she willingly loses. And he doesn’t always mind the loss.

 

She slides him against her, tempting with slick heat but never letting him get it. Each move is made with calm precision, edging him a bit closer – if his anatomy is doing anything for her, she doesn’t let him know, no muscle on her face betraying the calm facade. She’s silent, lips parted slightly, and he keeps his eyes focused on the swell of her lower lip. He aches to kiss her, but the gag and the bonds and her hand on his throat keeps him pinned, keeps him out of reach from her. Just like she wants it.

 

His eyes flicker past her and he could swear Jennah’s looking right at him. She’s far away, it’s hard to determine, but the feeling of her gaze never fails to make him shudder in pleasure and fear. Anise stops her motions in his lap, turning her head to look as well. Her hair spills over his face, soft and fragrant.

 

She turns back to him with a renewed fire in her eyes, hooking one finger at the back of the necklace. The chain digs into his unshaven skin, catching on the fine hairs, the Blood Legion pendant pressing against his Adam’s apple. His breath hitches as she pulls just a little bit more, her hips grinding against his.

 

Bucking up against her, he comes quietly, seed shooting onto his stomach. Spent and humiliated, he gazes up at her, pleading. 

 

She lets go of the chain and he slumps forward, resting his forehead against the swell of her breasts. Stroking the back of his neck she undoes the gag, pulling it away from his sore mouth.

 

”Good pup,” Anise whispers, her fingers curling behind his ear. ”Now clean yourself up, we have a long day ahead of us.”

 

”But… Jennah…”

 

”Oh, you sweet boy. Illusions can play such sinister tricks on your mind, can’t they?” She climbs off his lap and he sees the square again – but it’s empty, the only sound coming from it rain hitting against stone. He squints and sees the tell-tale haze of purple, and for a moment there’s Jennah, her amused smile teasing him before she vanishes in the blink of an eye.

 

Anise nudges his chin up. ”You did well. We’re very pleased.” Before his tired mind can muster up a protest, she bends down and kisses him; he accepts it, just like he accepts all their cruel games of the mind. Her insistent lips and tongue move against his, urging him to respond, and though he takes his time trying to remember the motions of kissing he eventually succeeds. As he’s melting into the kiss and gathering his senses again, Anise breaks away abruptly.

 

”Did he behave?” Jennah asks, cloak dewy with rain, hand tangled in the back of Anise’s hair.

 

”He learns quickly,” Anise replies.

 

Jennah puts her other hand on Logan’s cheek, cupping it, studying his face. ”Would be a shame to let your situation go to waste, dear.” As she bends down to plant the lightest of kisses on his mouth, he sighs against her lips, feeling the desire stir in him again. 


End file.
